


The Frog Urinal

by nonnymouse



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Objectification, Piss Enema, Public Use, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 19:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14983622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonnymouse/pseuds/nonnymouse
Summary: Jack has had it with Bitty using the Haus's kitchen all the time when he doesn't even live there. Johnson has a solution.





	The Frog Urinal

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this kinkmeme prompt:
> 
> "Bitty/Any Personal Urinal
> 
> What it says on the tin. Someone, maybe even anyone on the team, can come find him and push him over to take a piss in him. Bitty gets off on the feeling of hot, fresh, piss in his ass."
> 
> https://omgkinkplease.dreamwidth.org/586.html?thread=169290#cmt169290

The trickiest step was carefully moving the tray acting as a makeshift water bath (filled silicone mold already in the center) from the counter to the oven. Bitty trusted his own abilities perfectly, but he hadn't expected a scowling Jack to suddenly emerge in his periphery, and he flinched. Water and pie filling and bits of broken pastry showered both of them.

"That's it," Jack said, his mouth a tight line. "I'm calling a Haus meeting."

They waited there, because apparently the meeting was going to take place in the ruins of Bitty's efforts.

When all residents had arrived (except Lardo, who was still abroad and therefore didn't get a vote), Jack launched into a diatribe about how Bitty was always in the kitchen so they couldn't just make a sandwich, always using their appliances and jacking up the energy bill, using their cleaning supplies, "And he doesn't even live here!" He banged his fist on the counter to punctuate his argument.

"Whoa, bro," Shitty said. "I get what you're saying, but I like his pies. I'm cool with him using the kitchen."

Ransom (or possibly Holster) shrugged. "We could ask him to chip in a bit."

Holster rolled his eyes. "He's not actually here that much. It's cool."

"So, your problem is that he's using too many of our resources and not making himself useful enough, correct?" Johnson said from where he lounged in the doorway.

"Yeah, I guess." Now that he was done ranting, Jack looked uncomfortable.

Johnson unfolded himself and stepped into the kitchen. He looked Bitty up and down, which was rather disconcerting. Bitty hadn't realized how large Johnson was before. He didn't have to worry about a goalie checking him, after all.

"Y'know, since Cooper graduated, I've been looking for a replacement," he said, half to himself. Everyone looked confused. "Bitty, let's show them how useful you can be. Face the counter. Hands flat on it, and stick out that little butt."

It was awkward, but Bitty did it. He didn't want to lose access to Betsy.

When Johnson's big hands slid his shorts down, he jumped forward, but Johnson pulled him right back into place. "Steady now. They want us to get to the good part." He dipped two of his big fingers into the Crisco, where it was still sitting on the counter.

"Did you wash your hands?" Bare-assed, Bitty still couldn't contain his outrage that Johnson was ruining baking supplies.

That was, until he felt Johnson rubbing the shortening on his asshole. He peeked over his shoulder, but the other guys weren't leering. They looked curious. It made him slightly less worried that this was some kind of traumatizing hazing ritual. Bitty looked back down at the counter, flexing his hands, when something pushed at his asshole. The thing slipped in easily thanks to the oil. Wider than his fingers when he'd played with his own ass, but not pushing near as deep inside.

Then something warm started spreading through him, strangely comforting. He felt more and more relaxed as it filled him up like a warm bath from the inside. Johnson's hand rubbed his stomach, affectionate. It was pleasant, being petted and filled.

His mind, however, was more resistant than his body to what he knew had to be happening. "Are you pissing in me?"

"Yeah," Johnson grunted, thrusting shallowly as his stream trickled off, more like he was making sure all of it got in than the start of anything more vigorous. "You're a good toilet, Bitty. Took right to it, didn't ya, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," Bitty agreed quietly, because it was shameful, but he felt like what Johnson had said he'd be. Useful. He'd done something nice for Johnson, and Johnson liked him for it. He lifted his counter to touch one cheek, feeling if he was as flushed as he felt. He was glowing.

Reaching up, Johnson ripped off some paper towels and swiftly replaced his cock with them, preventing any leaks. "We'll have to get you a butt plug, won't we? All in favor of making Bitty the Haus toilet?"

Bitty had forgotten their audience. Chilled, he turned around to a surprisingly enthusiastic show of hands. Did they all want to fill Bitty up? And there was that blood going right back to his face.

"The ayes have it. Bitty, why don't you go up to the bathroom? I expect you have some services to perform before you shower."


End file.
